kuroshi
by yurimagination
Summary: This is my first original fanmade yuri series. there will be violence, adult language, adult scenes and romance. i will try and post updates as often as i can but no promises, i hope to at least make up to five volumes. my main goal is to finish the series in less than two years. anyways, thank you for reading and enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Kuroshi

Vol.1

Kuro:

I stared up blankly at the white ceiling of my room. I'm extremely bored at the moment. I've been in here for a little over a week but I never seem to get used to it, vacant feeling… like something is missing. I've always been lonely. For as long as I can remember I have been seeking a decent, unconditional relationship but I never found one. "I am alone. No one loves me. No one will ever love me. There's no point in looking for friends or love anymore." That's what I always thought, that is, until I met _her_.

My name is kuro. It's ironic since kuro means "black" and my one noticeable trait is my shoulder-length black hair. I am short, 153 cm (or a little over 5 feet) and I was often mistaken for a middle-schooler when I was still in high school. I'm 16 years old, I would be in high school right but there is one slight problem… I am a murderer.

Growing up, my father would often abuse me, he never did anything beyond hitting me and I am thankful for that. He was a drug addict and went off the deep end a couple of times. He would blame me for everything, his shortage on drugs, his sadness, even his laziness. Everything was made into my fault and I was beaten in places that no one would notice. Laying on my bed covered in bruises and lifelessly thinking, I had a sudden thought that was normally unique to someone as timid as me, "why don't I just kill him?" It's not like I had anything to lose. My mother passed away when I was 6 and I always preferred to side with women over men whenever an argument or disagreement happened at school. Ever since I was old enough to hate, I despised men. Even men who were nice to me, though not intentionally, I would hate them. I never saw them as scary, just weak and selfish. I know not all men are like that but I can't think of them any other way… my father made sure of that.

The day after I decided to kill my father, I waited until he "doped up" on his usual heroine needle, I then took a skewer for grilling out of the kitchen and made my way over to him. He was too out of it to notice me standing over him. Without a second thought, I took the end of the skewer and plunged it through him throat. He flailed around on the chair he was laying in and was make irrational sound effects while gasping for air. Dyeing only lasted about 30 seconds, which was a relief to me. I wanted to kill him but I didn't want to make him suffer, no matter how much I hated him. This wasn't a crime of passion, it was a crime of pure hopelessness. I found no happiness in killing him, I just wanted to be free of his abuse. After thinking about my reasoning for a few seconds, I noticed a puddle of blood seeping out of the hole in his neck, I flinched. A slight twinge of guilt hit me but was then removed immediately after I saw his face, he looked so peaceful. "I guess now we might both be free of abuse" I whispered to myself while crying at my own words. After standing there for a few minutes, crying, I looked at his hair. It fascinated me, "it's like mine but then why were we so different?" I thought to myself. After staring at his short black locks for a while, I wiped the tears from my face and headed towards the kitchen. I opened the utensil drawer and grabbed the scissors. When I approached my father's body, I took the scissors and cut a thick lock from his bangs and put it in my pocket. I planned on putting it in a zip lock bag later. "Why am I doing this?" I thought. I later learned that this wasn't a usual murder of hate, no, not at all. I later learned that I, kuro shisumi, am a serial killer.

Next page…


	2. Chapter 2

Laying on my bed in my room while reading a manga, I heard a familiar noise. *ping* my door rang and I heard a voice on the other side. "Kuroshi, lunch time." I frowned while setting the manga down. Now I was upset, "I told you to stop calling me that!" I said angrily while heading towards the door. "But heard that's what they called you on the news, don't serial killer like to be called by their alias because of the attention?" he countered. "Well I'm different… now leave." I said while walking away with the food tray that he slipped through the door slot while we were talking. I then stopped in my tracks and told him something before he left "oh and also, I don't think a mental ward employee should be encouraging serial killers by using their alias…" he looked down blushing after I said that. Oh, he probably just realized that I was right, not like I care though. After he left I sat down at my desk and began to eat. Now my day was nearly ruined by his visit. I sighed. It's not just because I hate men that I don't like talking to that guy, it's also because he is so clueless that he irritates me. His name rojo, he and Cindy are the only two employees on this ward. They take care of everything from changing bedsheets to giving the patients food. Cindy is kind of nice but she is strict with the rules. Rumor has it that she only got this job because her uncle is the facility manager. That's the only reason that I couldn't seem to respect her, she relies way too much on her uncle, I still like her as a person but I don't believe that I would be able to recognize her as an authority figure.

Yes, I am now in a mental ward. After my final victim, the ruling was that I wasn't in control of my actions and deemed "mentally unfit for making reasonable decisions" but that ruling was just passed as sympathy from the jury because of my father. It's not like I wanted their sympathy, I could care less but at least I wouldn't have to go to prison. Another reason that the judge went easier on me than most criminals is because, though not mentioned in court, I at least had some sense of justice. All ten of my victims were very abusive men that were considered the "brutes" of society. They all abused their families in several ways, I made sure before committing my crimes. I knew that what I was doing was immoral and completely wrong but after looking at the way those so-called humans ruined their wives and children emotionally, something inside me told me over and over again "save them!" and that is what I did. When testifying in court, they were so broken from the abuse, they couldn't even find a reason to blame me.

Unlike other serial killers, I am "unique" as the psychologists classified me. I do not find joy in killing, I only did for other people's sake. The only things that I did that the usual serial killer does was the memento (lock of hair) and the same type of victims. I didn't even use the same weapon more than once, which made it even harder to find me. The reason I was caught was because I was "saving" one of my classmates who was being sexually attacked by an upperclassmen, it was by pure coincidence that heard her shouting for help, and I was so angry that I ended up strangling him to death. That was the only time happened out of passion. The girl I saved called the police which is why I ended up here… I don't blame her at all, I find it hard to blame women for anything since my mother dead especially when they are in shock, and the psychologist diagnosed it as a part of my grief.

I looked at the meal that was sitting on my desk, it came with roast beef, yams, mashed potatoes, asparagus and jello. It astounded me that we get to eat meals like this here but I guess it's because we considered "less criminal" compared to people in prison because the patients on this are mostly unaware that they are doing something "wrong".

I actually grown fond of my room, it's comfortable. The only problem is… the damn camera. We are monitored 24 hours a day. Even though they allow us some measures to ensure our privacy, like a built in wall so they can't see you changing or a separate bathroom, it's still really hard to fall asleep knowing that someone watching you… on a more pleasant note, they allow us privileges, like entertainment (reading material, fashion, etc.). We're not allowed to leave our rooms, so they provide us with anything that want as long there is no rule against it.

The meeting:

I was fixing my hair in front of my mirror for no particular reason whatsoever. It's not like anyone is going to see it. I stuck the pins that my mother gave me before she died in my shoulder-length pony tails. Well, they aren't really ponytails, they look more hanging dog-tails on each side of my head. The pins were pink and circular, they looked more like cufflinks. my "dog tails" are separate from the rest of my short, wavy hair. The top of my head adorned an antennae-like collection of strands that curves from the top of my head and points to the floor. I could never really fix my "antennae" because if I cut it, it would just look weird and would grow back anyways.

While looking at my reflection intently, I heard a small voice. It sounded like it was coming from the wall behind my desk, I leaned under my desk but heard nothing… am I hearing things? "Hello?" the voice said. So I wasn't hearing things. Good. Here I was thinking that I finally lost it. "Hi. Who are you?" I said in response. "I'm…- I tried…-" the voice said as if trying to respond. "I can't understand you. Sorry." I said apologetically. "Ah! I…- ha…- idea-" after she said that a minute later I was surprised by a "fwip!" noise, I looked to the left and saw a vent in the wall I never noticed before with a small strip of pink paper under it that smelt like roses, on it said the following: "hi! My name is Annie. I saw you walk by my room on your first day here and I thought 'she looks adorable! I have to talk to her!' your name is kuro, right?" there was a heart after the word _adorable_. upon reading the short but spontaneous letter, I found out that my face was getting hot, at first I thought I getting sick. When I felt my face I realized that I was blushing… but I never blushed this hard before. When I was still at school, I was complimented several times but it never really had any significance. "Adorable…" I repeated to myself. Especially when men at school said I was "cute" it creeped me out, it made me feel disgusted, so why? Why is it that I react so strongly to these words? This ward is for female patients only… is it because she is girl too and because I hate men? I immediately realized that wasn't the reason. No… that's definitely not it. This person, with just a few words, it feels like she is looking directly at my soul. I realized that she was probably waiting for a response. I grabbed a piece of paper out of my desk drawer and ripped a sliver off of the bottom, after I did that, I wrote the following: "yes… my name is kuro. Thank you for the compliment. I'm sorry but I don't remember seeing you. I think I was too nervous to notice anything. Why did you decide to say something after a whole week?" I was still pretty suspicious, this was a facility for serial killers, after all… she could be completely insane. Her next letter said: "well, I was afraid that wouldn't respond. It took me a while to build up courage to talk to you. I have been trying for three days but you didn't seem to hear me until now." Three days? "Such dedication" I thought. When I was thinking that, another note slipped through the vent, I said: "also, I would be really sad if you didn't talk to me." She put an unhappy face at the end. I blushed. We continued to each other friendly notes until it was time to go to sleep.

Laying on my bed, I thought about my conversation with Annie, I smiled. After my recollection I then stopped smiling and hugged the stuffed bear that was on my bed. "Adorable…" I thought and hugged my bear tightly. I was blushing again. This has never happened before. My heart was racing. Sure, I favored girl's opinions over guys and I never really found men attractive, far from it. Even though I always thought that, I never reacted this way to a girl either... love never really seemed fit for me. Love? Is that what this feeling is? "No." I reassured myself in my thoughts. "I'm sure I'm just embarrassed." I hugged my pillow tighter. There was something that has been bothering me when since I started talking to her. She is really nice but that just made my question all the more important, "why is she here?" as I thought that, I feel asleep, frowning.

Next chapter…


End file.
